Penalty Kill
by EKSmith
Summary: NHL hopeful Edward Cullen moved back to his small arctic town after a devastating injury ended his career.  When a chance comes for him to prove himself, the difficulties he is faced with are far more than physical. *ON HIATUS, but not forgotten!*
1. Chapter 1

A/N Thanks to my awesome beta, Robzbeanie for fixing this up for me, and to Tor and Outerisland for helping me out with ideas and stuff. I normally don't leave notes, but please check out the A/N below. Thanks for reading!

"There's no way in hell they'll count that!"

"It was clean!"

"He's in the crease – are you even looking at the playback!"

These were the sounds of a typical Saturday night in the tiny northern town of Twilight, Canada. It was Hockey Night in Canada, after all, and around these parts, hockey was life. Everyone over the legal drinking age of 18 would pile into the local pub and the draught beer would flow. If you didn't show up, you could guarantee someone would question it – everybody knew everyone.

There wasn't a hell of a lot else to do in Twilight. The road in and out of the town was technically only useable in the summer months – which meant June to September – and even then, it was messy. Winters were long, dark and the coldest you'd ever feel or see. If you were an able-bodied guy, you worked and you played hockey, and on Saturday nights? You drank beer.

Chances were, if you lived in Twilight, you'd been there your whole life – along with your father, your father's father, and your grandfather's father. It was either that or you were being paid the big bucks to tolerate the ice and cold.

My father fell into the latter category. I was only ten years old when my parents decided to take a life-changing opportunity and move to the great white north. My dad, Dr. Carlisle Cullen, was offered a position as the community doctor, and head of the health centre. He served surrounding small towns by helicopter, providing services to a large area of folks that would have otherwise gone without.

Coming from a small town in Washington state, we didn't think the change would be so bad. Boy, were we wrong. No McDonald's, no paved roads, no cable TV. But my mother was always one to make the best of things, so she cheered us on and helped us adapt.

Being a young and active boy, I immediately took to the constant stream of hockey – on frozen ponds in the winter, or on the dusty gravel streets from spring to fall. When you had nothing else to do, learning to skate was a piece of cake.

Hockey really became life for me when my parents made the decision – when I was fourteen – to send me to a hockey-centered boarding school down south. I could easily admit that I was good at the sport. Really good. I made it into the elite school with no difficulties. I'd left my buddies in Twilight behind and was pretty cool with the idea of moving on and moving up.

Four years later I was drafted to an NHL farm team, known as "The Heat." I had my sights set on a spot as a wingman for the Calgary Flames – my favourite team.

All it took was one good hit, and it was all over.

I was on a breakaway, clear shot at the net, when my cockiness caught up to me. Head down, I dodged the players in front of me with ease – but didn't check to my right. In the blink of an eye, I was levelled flat out by a giant defenseman – and that hit had levelled my entire hockey career.

You could say I was bitter. It had been almost a full year since my injury, and sitting here drinking beer alone, watching the team I could have one day played for still didn't sit well with me.

"Hey, Cullen–" a loud voice boomed, snapping me out of my reflections.

"Yeah?" I said as I turned around. It was Charlie Swan – the local sheriff and coach of the Twilight rec hockey team.

"You put those skates back on yet, boy? Cause holy shit, do I ever have an offer for you!"

**A/N This little fic was worked up in my imagination after chatting with a friend about the need for a Twi hockey-fic from Edward's POV. I've taken bits of inspiration from the movies Mystery Alaska and The Mighty Ducks (which are great – go watch them if you haven't!) and mixed them up with our favourite crew to create this story. This is just a little taste…. I'll be sticking to the same update schedule that I have for The Ranch – updates coming weekly/biweekly – and regular chapters will be longer. Thank you for reading – I always love to hear your thoughts! xoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN Thanks so much to my awesome beta, Robzbeanie, for being so speedy and wonderful and to Tor for prereading. xoxo**

Next thing I knew, I was following Chief Swan home through the blowing snow and bitter, biting wind. Temperatures in Twilight were the coldest of cold, and when you added wind chill to the mix, the temps were almost unbelievably low. The fresh snow blowing around in the darkness created close to white out conditions. Everyone in Twilight knew the town like the back of their hands – the low visibility, coupled with the familiarity, was something you just got used to.

Charlie insisted that I follow him back to his house rather than stay at the bar – apparently, whatever he had to tell me was "top secret" and needed to be "kept quiet from all the busybodies with nothing better to gossip about." The guy had a point – the people of Twilight clung to gossip like leeches – often inventing tall tales to shake things up when the days got long and cabin fever crept in. He'd ordered the special of the day at the pub – mushroom ravioli, that definitely didn't smell special – to go, and we headed out.

A few minutes later, we trudged up the snow-covered steps that led to the front porch of the Swan residence. All of the homes in Twilight were similar – designed by the same pair of builders with only slight changes in each. Unique to the northern homes were large front porches, built to store many months' worth of dry goods. Although we did have a grocery store in town, the majority of folks bought their pantry items off a barge that delivered to town twice a year. Saved big on cost and ensured you'd be stocked up when blizzards hit. The downside? You were stuck with the same kind of cereal for six months, whether you liked it or not.

"Can I get you a cup of tea? A beer?" the chief asked as he hung up his heavy parka and shook out his scarf and gloves.

"No thanks, I'm good. What exactly did you bring me here for though, Chief?" I asked, getting straight to the point. It wasn't that I didn't like the chief – he was a decent enough guy from what I could tell. These days though, outside of work, I preferred to keep to myself – basking in the misery of my own company.

"Well kid, have a seat," he said as he motioned through the porch to his dining room table. His house was neat and tidy, but quite bare – definitely a bachelor pad. The cupboards were painted in the ugliest colour of yellow I'd ever seen, and the fridge was covered in miscellaneous magnets holding up clippings from the New Moon Weekly paper.

"You remember that Hockeyville gig we participated in with CBC last year? I think you'd just shown back up here when it was starting," he asked as he slid out the wooden chair at the far end of the table.

"Sort of," I answered cautiously. The moment I'd arrived back in Twilight, I was bombarded by members of the town council wanting me to volunteer my time to their "Hockeyville" application. Hockeyville was a competition amongst small Canadian towns that was broadcast on television through CBC. Communities had to band together to show their hockey spirit, in hopes of winning funding towards a new arena or other hockey-related prizes. Being an "almost-star," I ranked high on the town's list of names they could use to potentially boost their standings. Coming off a serious injury with a seriously bad temper left me with no interest at all in their reality TV game. I declined completely.

"Well – obviously, we didn't get it. Some tiny ass town in Ontario picked it up, but they liked us – so much that they've offered us something even better," Charlie said with a smirk as he made his way to the stove and picked up the kettle. He filled it with water and plopped it on the stove to boil.

"Oh yeah? And what would that be?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest, annoyed that he was still beating around the bush.

"CBC offered Twilight coverage of a game against an actual NHL hockey team. Our guys versus theirs – here, in our town," he said coolly, as he plopped a tea bag in an empty mug that read "World's Greatest Dad" and had a picture of palm tree on it.

"How the hell would that work? Are you kidding? Those guys aren't gonna want to come up here! And besides, who the hell would play them?" I questioned harshly, while questioning Charlie's sanity for thinking this was a good idea at the same time.

"Well – the Calgary Flames have already put in a bid on the idea. They liked us – said we showed a lot of spirit and heart. Apparently there was some movie made years ago that followed the idea – was great publicity. Ticket sales are down, Edward. The league's looking for every marketing opportunity they can get."

"Huh," I snorted, trying to digest what he was telling me. It would be just my luck that it would be the Flames, too – nothing like a kick to the gut when you're already down. "Ok – so the pros are in, which is insane, but whatever. Who's gonna play against these guys?"

"Well – Jasper Hale's been actively involved in the rec team. He and the McCarty boy have been organizing that for years." I nodded, knowing darn well that their names would be coming up in this. I had avoided Jasper and Emmett as much as possible since I'd been back – we were the best of friends as young kids, but you'd have never known now. "The Black kids are incredible on their skates, too; you may not have seen them – but damn, they're fast. And well–" he paused, picking the boiling kettle off the stove – " I was hoping we'd get you out there, too."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I started, "I haven't even put my skates on since I screwed up my leg, Chief. I don't know about the rest of your guys, but I don't exactly want to be made a fool of on national TV. These guys are good – insanely good. Rec hockey is just rec hockey, man."

"I figured this would happen," Charlie said with a sigh, his back turned to me as he reached for a plate from the mustard yellow cupboard. "What if I switched the offer up a little for you? Huh?" he asked as he sat the plate down on the table, and started unwrapping the ravioli he'd ordered. He flipped the little foil container over and the pasta slipped out with a wet plop.

"That looks like dog food," I murmured, aware that I was being rude, but unable to find it in me to care.

"It does, but it tastes good. Now – listen here," he said, his tone sharp, his casual smile and demeanour gone. "I'm not an idiot, Edward – I played enough hockey in my own day to know what we'd be up against. Do you really think I'd send those kids – kids who I care about – out there to be mocked and made fun of? If I didn't think they could stand up and equally match the pros, I wouldn't be doing this. If you'd give me a damn minute here, kid, I can give you this offer – and if you don't like it, you can take a hike. Got it?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, caught off guard by his change in tactics, "Go ahead."

"I know you've got a lot of experience. That team you were on would've been prepping you well for the big leagues. If you don't want to play with the rest of them, what say you come out and help me coach? Work on the skills they need to make this game happen?"

"I don't know, Chief – When would this even be? A few weeks from now? Months? That's hardly enough time to turn a bunch of rec leaguers into an NHL-calibre team, man. I'm working a lot right now, too – I don't know if I've even got the time," I lied, knowing damn well if my heart was in this, I'd make it work.

"It would be in eight weeks. I'll tell you what – you go home and think about it tonight. Listen – I know there's some tension between you and some of the guys around here. I'm not stupid or blind. Let's just say that this might be a good opportunity to put some of that behind you, no?"

"Maybe I don't want to put it behind me," I barked. Who the hell did he think he was? I barely even knew the guy, and here he was meddling in business he had no matter in.

"Dad?" a girl's voice called out, drawing both of our attention to the doorway. I glanced over at her and was stunned – she was gorgeous. Dark brown hair, smooth flawless skin, and rosy pink cheeks from the cold. Her parka was unzipped already – underneath it looked as though she was wearing scrubs.

"Hey hun," he said softly as he made his way to her and kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Do you remember Edward? Carlisle's boy?"

"Um, I don't think so," she said, giving me a quick glance. "Nice to meet you – I'm Bella."

"Hi," I said stupidly, feeling like a 16-year-old, and gave her a quick wave.

"Edward here used to play hockey, Bells. Almost made it to the Flames, right Edward?" Charlie said, and I cringed.

"Yeah, something like that," I mumbled.

"Hockey, eh? I think Carlisle mentioned that, actually," Bella said as she sat down in front of the plate of ravioli. "Thanks for this, Dad – I didn't get time to eat more than a snack all day."

"You know my dad?" I asked, confused. I was shocked that I hadn't seen Bella around. As I'd said – everyone in Twilight knew everyone, and someone as beautiful as Bella wouldn't go unnoticed.

"Yeah – of course. I saw him enough times as a kid here, and now I'm his nurse," Bella said with a smile as she pushed her pasta around her plate.

"Oh. I didn't know you lived her before – how old were you?" I asked, still confused.

"Bella left here at eleven, Edward. Me and her mom separated, and Bella moved all the way down to Phoenix with her. Let me think – hmm – yeah, you guys would have spent a year in school together," Charlie added, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"I was super accident-prone? Mousey? Quiet?" she laughed, taking a slow bite of her pasta. My eyes were drawn instantly to her mouth, her bottom lip full and pouty.

"Wait!" I said, suddenly making the connection. "You aren't the girl that fainted when Jessica Stanley got that puck to the nose at recess, are you? There was blood everywhere!"

"Yeah – you got me," she grinned. "Obviously got over it though – and wow – that was a really long time ago! I just got in last night, and started with Carlisle today. Your dad's a really great guy," she added.

"Thanks – he is. I'd better get going though," I said, ready to retreat home to think about this whole hockey situation. "It was nice to meet you, Bella."

"You too, Edward. I'm sure I'll be seeing you," she said with a pleasant smile.

"Think about that offer, Edward," Charlie interjected as I stepped in to my heavy snow boots. "I'll track you down tomorrow."

**So, the offer is out there…what will Edward do? =) Thank you for reading guys – always love to hear** **your thoughts! The next chapter will be ready in a week or so. XOXO**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Giant thanks to my awesome and quick beta, Robzbeanie, and my prereader's Tor and Outerisland. Thank you guys for all of your help. Sorry for the delay on this chapter – hope you enjoy it! **

The yellow glow of the dining room light guided my way home from Chief Swan's place. The wind was still howling, the snow was still blowing, and I was pretty certain I'd made up my mind. Chief Swan may have been on to something for the town – raising funds for the town through a hockey-themed publicity stunt was a unique idea – but I was having no part in it.

"Edward? Where were you?" my mom called out to the porch as I kicked the snow off my boots against the step. "Your stew's getting cold!"

"Sorry ," I replied, stripping out of my winter gear. "I was at the Chief's place."

"What were you doing there?" Carlisle asked, rounding the corner from the washroom – his sleeves rolled back and hands damp.

"He wants me to do this hockey thing – I don't know," I trailed off, following the delicious smell of Esme's home cooking straight to the dining room.

"A hockey thing?" Esme asked with a wide grin, as she took her seat next to Carlisle. One thing you could say about my parents – they always showed great interest in my activities, and Esme in particular was my biggest fan. Whenever she was able, she'd come to my games – even if it meant catching a flight just for a weekend. She'd be the mom in the stands cheering the loudest and carrying the biggest sign. At the time, I was embarrassed, but when things went downhill for me – and Carlisle and Esme were there to bail me out – I quickly learned to be grateful.

"Yeah. Apparently, the CBC is gonna sponsor this game – our rec team against the Calgary Flames – and they're gonna broadcast it live on TV. I guess there's money in it for new sports equipment and sponsored gear and stuff – I don't really know all the details."

"Wow – this is a sure thing?" Esme asked, surprised.

"I guess so. Charlie wants me to play or at least coach," I replied with a sigh, taking my seat.

"I think it's great. You agreed, right?" Carlisle said, his mouth half full of stew.

"You do?" I blurted, struck back by his reaction. "No! I didn't give him an answer yet, but I know I'm not doing it!"

"Well, I think you should," he said, as he casually dipped his roll in his bowl, as if none of this was any big deal.

"Really?" I deadpanned, staring at him in disbelief. "You actually think this is a good idea?"

"Yes. I do," he replied completely nonchalantly, while stirring his stew. "If you're planning on sticking around, Edward, don't you think it'd be wise to help out the community in some way? I don't see the big deal."

"The big deal," I blurted out, dropping my spoon in my dish, "is that I know those guys – we'll be laughed at –"

"Wait a minute," he interrupted, holding his finger up to silence me. "Now you're kidding me, right?" my father replied in that "I'm disappointed in you" tone. "You mean to tell me that you care more about the opinions of some foreign hockey player than you do about the people in your hometown? We didn't raise you that way, son."

"Well, no – but I–"

"You're being a jerk. You aren't above this. Think about what that could do for the town."

"Oh, so I'm a jerk now? What about my knee?"

"You could coach. You know you can."

"Enough, you two!" Esme called out, interrupting our tense banter. "Why don't you think about it overnight, Edward? Think about what your father has said, and decide after a good sleep. Hmm?"

"Whatever," I grumbled, as I stirred chunks of meat and potatoes around my bowl.

"So–" Esme piped in, a little too cheerfully in an attempt to change the subject, "speaking of Chief Swan – I met Bella today."

"Oh good – she was there when you dropped in?" Carlisle asked, carrying on the dinner conversation as if the last five minutes hadn't happened.

"Yes, but she was on the move! What a lovely girl – she sure grew up beautifully," she sighed. "Did you catch her at Charlie's, Edward?"

"Um, yeah – she was just getting home as I was leaving," I mumbled, still burnt from my disagreement with Carlisle, but trying my damndest not to take it out on my mom.

"Maybe you could spend some time with her? Help her get settled in a bit?" Esme suggested, lighting up as the idea struck her. Across the table, Carlisle coughed hard, as he choked and shook his head back and forth.

"You ok, hun?" Esme asked, her nose wrinkled up in confusion.

"Um – yes," Carlisle said, composing himself, "but Bella's going to be busy. The clinic is overbooked and way understaffed."

"Yes, but I'm sure she'd like to have some company–" Esme started, but stopped once she caught a stern glance from Carlisle.

"Well, either way – who'd like some ice cream?" she covered, quickly changing the subject.

"Not me. I'm going to bed," I huffed as I stood up and roughly slid my chair in. I was sulking, but it felt appropriate.

"Son," my dad said, his voice tired. "Just give it some thought, ok?"

"Fine. I will," I nodded, and headed to my room to sleep.

xoxoxoxox

Come the next morning not a hell of a lot had changed. I'd tossed and turned the night before – wolves were howling on the outskirts of town, and the sharp sound of their cries kept my already restless mind working overtime.

I was both seriously surprised and taken off guard that Carlisle was pushing this, but then, I shouldn't have been. He was all about giving back to our community – his very presence in Twilight was about that very thing. I understood where he was coming from, but it didn't stop me from feeling exploited, nonetheless.

I arrived at the airport for work the next morning with a good ten minutes to spare. That meant extra time for coffee, and on a day like today, I needed it.

Twilight didn't have a whole lot of variety when it came to employment. You either did something specialized – doctor, nurse, teacher – or you did labour. I fuelled airplanes, loaded cargo, de-iced the runway – and with Twilight being a town where everything came by plane, we were busy.

When I say "we" I mean Emmett and Jasper – my childhood friends, whom I no longer could call the same. Emmett still spoke to me at work – he'd joke around a lot, making the long days pass quicker. Jasper? Not so much. He didn't like me at all and had no problem showing it. When the five o'clock bell rang, they were both done with me – most often off to the pub together to meet up with some other guys for a beer or two.

"So he's serious?" Emmett laughed, dumping four sugar cubes into his mug of thick black coffee. I'd given him the rundown on Charlie's offer – but only on the grounds that he kept his mouth tightly shut until it was confirmed.

"Yeah, it sounds like it's happening," I said, as I watched Jasper pile up boxes off a pallet that came in our last shipment. He was giving us the side-eye – his face set in a hard scowl.

"Did you see his Bella yet?" Emmett asked, licking his lips. "That's a fine specimen, that girl is."

"Oh yeah," I smirked. "She single?" I questioned, though not really sure why.

"She's just out of a relationship. Are you doing this hockey thing or not?" Jasper huffed as he continued unloading the freight without missing a beat, his tone cool.

"I don't know, man – I know those guys. They're the best there is…"

"So you don't think we'd stand a chance?" Jasper asked, dropping his gloves. I could feel the tension roll off of him – he wasn't impressed.

"Come on, man – they're NHL! Even the farm teams are good–"

"Oh right. How could I forget," he said sarcastically. "You were on one of those – a fancy pair of skates and an expensive school, and suddenly you're a star, eh Em?" he barbed. Emmett just held up his hands at a loss for words.

"It's not personal – it's just the truth," I barked back, standing my ground. I had the feeling that no matter what I said or did, Jasper wouldn't agree with it. His beef with me was personal – he was just making that clearer.

"You know, Edward – we don't have to be friends. Hell – I don't even like you – but I do like this town. There's a good group of guys here – and I'm not willing to let this experience pass them by. I'll do it, if you won't."

"Whatever dude. Your funeral," I muttered, blowing him and his temper tantrum off. If Jasper wanted to head this disaster, all of the power to him.

"If you think you're too good for this – for us? – then just fuck off now," he yelled, his irritation with me both growing and obvious. "We don't need you for shit."

Emmett and I watched as Jasper stomped off out of the cargo bay, slamming the door loudly behind him.

"What the hell's his problem?" I asked. "It's just the truth."

"Look – I'm not getting into this," Emmett sighed, shaking his head and wiping at the sweat on his brow. "All I'm gonna say is that you shouldn't jump to conclusions. The guys here are good, man. Maybe they don't have all the polish that you do, but does it really matter?"

"It matters when you're playing on national TV against NHL-calibre players!"

"What our guys lack in skill, they make up for in heart. Come to a practice – we've got shinny tonight at the rink. Before you spout anymore shit, maybe you should see things for yourself," he mumbled as he took off out the doors in search of Jasper.

I stomped around the office area trying to think of what to do next. Jasper was pissed at me, but that wasn't anything new. I thought back to Jasper's and my history, and my mind drifted back to my birthday party, when I was only 14 years old.

xoxoxoxo

FLASHBACK

My parents had rented out the school gym. Esme had chips and pop set up on the back table, while the other half of the gym was set up for floor hockey.

I'd only been back a few days, but I invited all of my old buddies: Jasper, Jacob, Emmett, Sam, and many of the other guys from school. While we were waiting on food, we passed the time messing around taking shots on the net.

"What kind of tricks are they teaching you down there?" Jasper asked me as he played around with his stick and the puck. He'd always been talented in the stick-handling department – he was quick.

"I don't know – lots of skating practice and stuff. Drills," I shrugged. "When are you coming?" I asked. Jasper had told me on my last trip home that his dad misplaced the paperwork and they missed the deadline, but that it would be a sure thing for the next semester. He was good enough – I knew he'd get in if he really tried.

"I don't know," he mumbled. "It's not like I really need to, or even want to anymore. Did it make you any better? Let's see what you've got now, Cullen," he said, as he slipped my puck from my stick.

"Heck yeah, I'm better!" I said as I chased after him. I charged up in front of him, turned my back against his torso and stole the puck easily from his stick. "What isn't there to want? You get to play hockey, the food is good, it's warmer – it's awesome!"

"That was lucky," he grumbled, catching up to me as I stick-handled the orange plastic puck back in front of the net. He attempted to block me – and he was fast – but I managed to squeeze right around him and popped a shot in the upper left corner, straight past Sam.

"I've got an idea," Jasper yelled out getting everyone's attention. "Edward in net. Let's give the "birthday boy"," he said mockingly, "some birthday shots, eh?"

"Fine. I'll go in," I said, taking the blocker and stick from Sam. "Ready when you guys are."

The guys formed a line in the centre of the space. First Sam, then Jacob, then Emmett took their turn – they all had powerful shots, but none made it past me. They gathered their pucks after they were finished and took their places at the back of the line.

"You ready for this, Edward?" Jasper jeered, as he slid the puck back and forth across the floor with his stick, planning his breakaway.

"Bring it on," I hollered back. Just like that, he started his jog towards me, showing off by adding a fancy spin that he stumbled a little on halfway to the net. He tried to pysch me out by faking for the top right, but I was one step ahead of him. I stretched my blocker out, catching his eyes on the bottom left corner and blocked his shot with ease.

"Damn it!" he hollered, tossing his stick angrily aside.

"Language!" Esme called from across the gym, where she was busy setting the table for cake.

"That's all ya got?" I snorted, knowingly egging him on. Jasper had a temper – we all knew that – and watching him react the way he did was amusing.

"No. Move!" he barked at Embry, who was next in line, as he picked up his stick and cut right to the front of the line. I tossed the puck back at him, and he scooped it in with his stick, sliding it back and forth again, in preparation of his next play.

This time, instead of the fancy footwork, he came barrelling straight for me, coasting the puck along the floor with him, and when he got just a few feet from my crease, he wound up.

I saw stars. Jasper had landed a full-on slap shot right between my eyes.

"Dude!" I heard Emmett yell out as I dropped to my knees, clutching my face in my hands. "Esme! Edward's hurt!" he bellowed, as the guys gathered around.

I opened my eyes, and sure enough, my palms had filled with blood. It was coming from my nose, which hurt like hell.

"Just hold still, Edward – I'll get some paper towels!" I heard Esme's comforting voice call out.

"Shoulda been paying attention," Jasper mumbled from beside me.

"Jasper, don't be a jerk," Emmett retorted for me.

"I'm not – just thought that the "special school" would teach him how to stop a puck," he sneered.

"If you're gonna be an asshole, just go home," I mumbled as best as I could, feeling the blood trickle down my throat, and gushing into my hands.

"Fine. Gone. This party's stupid anyway," he grumbled as he stomped off. I watched as he grabbed his present from the gift table on the way out, along with a handful of chips.

The rest of the party, I sat out. I didn't eat my cake. I watched the guys have a scrimmage, I opened gifts with one hand – the other clutching a towel to my bloody nose – then everyone left.

Later that night, with a bag of frozen peas attached to my face, I explained what happened to Esme and Carlisle in more detail at dinner. Esme felt awful for me, but Carlisle took a different angle.

"Go easy on him, son. He doesn't have things very easy at home," he said, always playing the "good guy."

"What did I do to him, though?" I huffed, slinking back in my chair. "He's just jealous."

"Maybe he is, but things aren't always what they seem," Carlisle sighed, then promptly changed the subject. "Now – how about those Flames?"

xoxoxox

The sound of the door chiming snapped me out of my head, and back to the counter at work. A large cardboard box with legs – feminine legs – was stumbling through the door.

"Can I help you?" I asked, moving over to give her a hand.

"Please!" she yelped from behind the large package, and I immediately recognized the voice – it was Bella. I grabbed the box from her hands, and thrust it up on the counter.

"What do you have in there?" I chuckled, as she shook snow from her hat. Her cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold.

"It's for my mom – a carving and a painting. She wants to keep in touch with her "arctic roots"," she giggled. "Whatever that means!" She had a really cute smile – it lit up her whole face.

"Ok, well – I can get it out on the next plane for you, k? Should be leaving this afternoon," I replied, trying to keep my eyes from really checking her out.

"That's perfect. Thanks, Edward. And hey – did you get back to my dad about the hockey game yet? I know he's really counting on you – it would make his life if you did it!" she chuckled.

"I, um, well–" I stumbled. For some reason, it was much more difficult saying no to Bella. "I don't exactly know yet. But I will tonight. I'm going to the practice. I know – tell Charlie to meet me there."

"Really?" she beamed excitedly. "I will! I'll head home and tell him now. Thank you, Edward. This means a lot to him!" she replied, and headed quickly for the door before I could get another word in.

I decided then that I would make my final, firm decision that evening. I tried hard to push the image of Bella's disappointed face from my head if I were to say no – seeing Bella so thrilled that I was even entertaining Charlie's idea was nice, and I barely knew the girl. I shook my head hard, annoyed at my stupid conscience, and brushed those thoughts – and all thoughts of the hockey game – aside and quickly got back to work.

**Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I love to hear your thoughts. This chapter took a lot longer than I originally planned – my apologies for the delay. The next one should be up in a few weeks! xoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Thank you to my amazing beta, Robzbeanie. Same day – that's seriously impressive! Also big thanks to Tor for prereading! xoxo**

After work, I settled in at the pub for a beer. As usual, I sat alone. The place had started off packed with the regular five o'clock crowd, but it quickly trickled out – 90% of the guys going to hockey, the other 10% going home to their wives who had had enough of the commitment.

After I slammed down the last inch of foam from my beer, I walked to the arena. The snow was deep and it was cold, but nothing in Twilight was ever far.

I'd passed by the arena many times since I'd been back in town, but this was the first time I'd stepped inside. To say I was shocked would have been an understatement. The smell of deep fried food and the pungent sweat smell of damp hockey equipment sat permanently in the air. Thick, black rubber matting that was curled up and torn at the edges covered the floors, and picnic tables were spread all over the lobby with the words "fuck," "hi" and various other profanity scratched in the multiple layers of bright paint. Surrounding the ice surface, the boards were scuffed and covered in age-old advertisements that had peeled and faded. Most of the companies listed as sponsors had long since gone under. Flags were hanging from the roof above the ice surface with the names of every minor hockey player in each age group for the last 15 years – the once shiny white banners now a dull shade of yellow.

The changes I saw in the Twilight Arena were definitely not for the better. The place was falling apart at the seams. A benefit to this event Charlie was working on was that it would bring income to the town – and damn, did they ever need it.

I headed towards the top row of the bleachers, hopefully out of sight of the players down below. A mishmash of multi-coloured practice jerseys skated around the ice in a series of drills. The guys had to start out on one end of the rink, skate through pylons with the puck and line up a shot on the net. Then they moved to the other side, where they started a series of conditioning drills – jumping over the blue line, dropping to their stomach and getting back up, skating backwards. Overall it was simple, straightforward, amateur stuff.

After they finished their drills, they split into teams for a scrimmage. I picked out certain players right off the bat. Emmett was a big guy on a regular day, but when you added skates and equipment, he was huge. His downfall was speed – some of the heavy skaters had no problems getting around him with ease. Jasper was completely the opposite – the guy was insanely fast, but he lacked control. His head was always down, and stopping was not a strong suit.

Jacob was probably the best player of the bunch. He was well-rounded – a combination of speed, size and skill. I had never really been close to him, but over the years he had seemed like a decent enough guy. Unlike many in the Twilight crowd, he wasn't a big drinker, focusing on school and now his job. It was reassuring to see that there was at least one person who could possibly stand up to some of the pros, but I still wasn't entirely convinced.

"So, whaddya think of my boys?" Charlie asked, surprising me as he clamped a heavy hand around my shoulder.

"I don't know," I mumbled.

"Better than you expected?"

"Well ya, but–"

"Dad – I brought you hot chocolate!" Bella's voice called out from the bottom of the bleachers. She had her hair tucked up under a fuzzy green toque, her long parka swallowing up her petite figure. "That you, Edward?" she called out as she tried to peek around Charlie.

"Hey," I said with a dorky half-wave. Why she made me feel like such a loser, I didn't know.

"Sorry – I should've grabbed you one, too, but I wasn't sure you'd make it. How's it going out there?"

"Looking pretty good, today," Charlie grunted, as he folded his arms across his chest. "They just need some polishing up, but the talent's there."

"Jacob's good," I added, trying to be somewhat positive.

"Do you think you're gonna help?" Bella asked, her eyes peeking up at me as she took a sip from her steaming foam cup.

"I, uh–" I stalled. "What are you thinking for commitment?" I directed at Charlie, drawing the focus off myself, allowing me another few seconds to think.

"I'm thinking practice every night after work. These boys need their jobs, and we can't be takin' from that. I know you're hesitant, but what do you say you try it for the first week? Bring out some drills, guide the practice a bit? And if you hate it, you'll have helped anyway."

"What's there to hate?" Bella asked, confused. "I thought you love hockey – Charlie's been talking up your stats all week!" Charlie rolled his eyes at her, crossing his arms tighter across his chest. He looked almost embarrassed.

"I don't hate, I mean – I do. Love hockey. I'm just out of it. Out of practice. I don't even know," I stumbled. I was such a loser. "Alright – I'll try it out for a bit," I finally caved.

"Good. I'm glad, Edward. Why don't you come out tomorrow – get at this right away," Charlie nodded.

"Sure. Tomorrow's good," I replied.

"Oh hey–" Bella cut in. "About your knee – Charlie told me all about it, and I just thought I'd tell you – I did some work as a physio assistant while I was in school. If you ever want to run through some new exercises or anything, I could maybe help a bit?"

That was a surprise. My injury wasn't something I liked to talk about at all, but coming from Bella, combined with the genuine offer, I didn't feel as angry about it as I normally would have.

"Um, thanks. I'll keep it in mind."

"Ok, well, I'm getting a poutine. See you guys in a bit!" she smiled, and headed off.

Charlie and I watched the last little bit of the practice without much more conversation between us. After the guys left the ice, we headed to the canteen for a burger and to catch up with Bella.

I stuck around out in the lobby, not too sure what to do with myself. Part of me wanted to leave, but staying felt like the right thing to do.

A few minutes later, the guys started filing out from the locker room. Emmett waved to me and headed in my direction, his bag loaded with equipment strung over his arm, his curly hair stuck to his head with sweat. Jasper followed behind him, but kept his distance.

"Dude – you still fuckin' reek," I groaned at the stench radiating off him. It was an ongoing joke that dated back to when we were kids – Emmett's equipment always smelled the worst. "I thought you'd have outgrown that by now."

"Smell of success, Cullen. You see that goal out there?" he beamed, his goofy grin lighting up his face.

"That cheap shot? Pfft," I teased.

"So what's the scoop with you? I saw you talkin' to hottie-Swan and Charlie up there. You doing this thing?"

"Yeah, I'll be out there tomorrow. Just coaching – maybe just temporary," I shrugged.

"Well, alright. Sure you've got some tricks up those skinny-ass sleeves," he joked, punching me in the arm. "See ya tomorrow, eh?"

I waved at Emmett and gave Jasper a nod, which he returned, then spotted Bella chatting with Jake by the canteen counter. He was leaning right into her, and they were studying something closely on the palm of his hand. It bugged me. Badly.

"Looking good out there, Jake," I said from behind him, hoping to break them apart a little. It was crazy of me, but I felt jealous. I had no reason to be jealous. I was such a mess.

"Oh shit, Edward! How are ya? Thanks man! See what Bella did for me today?" he said as he thrust his palm in my face. "I sliced it open at work." A thick gash with crooked black stitches stretched out across his palm.

"Dude," I murmured.

"I was just making fun of her 'straight line'," he teased, giving Bella a light jab to the side.

"Hey – the cut was crooked!" she cried. "And don't – you'll get your sweat on me," she scrunched up her nose and pushed him aside. "Go pick a table. I'll grab our food." Jake gave her a salute and made his way to the condiment station with a spring in his step.

"You guys are friends?" I asked as the gears in my head started moving. I knew that Bella was newly back in town, and by the looks of things, the two seemed close.

"Me and Jake? Oh, yeah. We go way back," she smiled, though she looked a little confused at my question.

"Nice 'handy-work' there," I said stupidly, immediately wanting to face-palm myself.

"Ha! Good one. I'm not the best with stitches."

"But you know some stuff about physio?"

"Yeah, some," she shrugged. "Why don't you come by the health centre? We can look at the exercises you're doing now, and see if I have anything to add. It's probably a good idea if you're gonna be skating again."

I considered her offer. It meant more time with her, and I wanted that. I was drawn to Bella – her upbeat personality was infectious – such a contrast to the usual dull and dreary of Twilight.

"Ok, I will. I haven't put on skates since I was hurt. It's probably a good idea."

"Yeah, Carlisle told me. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Sure. Looking forward to it," I nodded, feeling cheesy and ridiculous.

"Bella – I'm gonna eat all your cheese!" Jake called out from across the lobby.

"Ok, I'd better go – I'll see you soon, Edward. "

As I trudged through the snow on the way back to my house, I tried to wrap my brain around what bothered me so much about Bella talking to Jake. I knew I was being a fool – I liked her. I didn't know her, but I liked being around her. She was hot and smart and I was sure that any guy with a dick would think the same, but there was something about her that was magnetic.

Then there was Jake. She said they were friends, yet I couldn't help the jealousy. Jake had a lot to offer – he was well liked, a hard worker, a decent-looking guy. I could see how she'd be attracted to him, and frankly, she was probably better off. What she would see in a bitter, sorry-for-himself reject like me, I didn't know.

Inside the front porch, I tossed off my heavy winter coat and dug around in the back room through my equipment. I pulled out my helmet and shin pads, then dug out my skates. I was tempted to head back to the outdoor rink – which was basically just a bumpy frozen pond surrounded by plywood – for a lap or two, but my skates were so dull that it would have been pointless. I was nervous about stepping foot on the ice again, and the last thing I needed to do was fall flat on my face in front of everybody.

I stuffed my gear that I'd need for the practice in a smaller bag, and headed inside. Carlisle wasn't back from the health centre yet, and Esme was curled up on the couch with a book. She gave me a little wave as I stomped upstairs, but otherwise went back to her story.

I decided to pass the rest of the evening with a half-empty bottle of Royal Reserve and some of my old practice and game video tapes. I needed to come up with some sort of practice plan – if I showed up unprepared, there was no way any of the guys would take me seriously. I had skills to teach them, but this wasn't peewees – it was grown men, and they would all smell bullshit a mile away.

I popped the first unmarked tape in and sat back on my bed, taking a long burning swig from my bottle. I remembered the practice on the tape immediately – it was recorded to be used as a recruitment video and was complete with cheesy dance music. The drill we were running was called "Tight Area Horseshoe." Players lined up on either side of the rink between the blue lines. Goalies and nets were placed at both sides, right next to the boards. A handful of pylons were staggered in front of each lineup, and a coach and assistant were to stand directly beside the net on either end. This drill ran fast – players would carry the puck through the pylons, do a full lap around the circle at centre ice, then drop their puck, accept a pass from the coach and take a shot on net. It was a much quicker pace than anything I'd seen at the rec practice that evening, and I was sure it would shake up the Twilight crew. I marked it down on a pad of paper I had stashed beside my bed and fast forwarded.

Several more tapes – and several shots of whiskey later – I felt like I had a well-rounded practice mapped out. I was looking for a finishing drill – something challenging, but fun – and came up empty-handed. I popped the last video in my stack into the VCR and flopped back down.

"Only two minutes left in the third period – tied up solid at 3 – Cullen passes to Cheney – dodges Newton narrowly at the blue line. Are you kidding? – backhand to Crowley – Crowley stalls at the blue line, passes to Cullen – he's in, he's going–"

It was too late to change it. I knew what was coming.

"And Cullen's rocked by Newton! Cullen's down! Newton scoops the puck – Cullen still isn't up – this could be serious, folks – and the play is stopped!"

It hurt just as much hearing it again. I got up – numb, but not nearly enough – and slammed my hand into the VCR. When that didn't stop it, I jabbed at the power button as if it was the source of all my problems.

It figured – just as I was starting to feel good about something, another thing had to come and shit on my parade. I guzzled down the last of my booze, and without even cleaning myself up for bed, I buried myself under my blankets, begging sleep to take over and get me out of my own head.

**My apologies for the wait on this chapter! I've been focusing most of my time on finishing up The Ranch, but the good news is that it is very close to done, so I'll have much more time for Hockeyward. Yay! Thank you for reading and reviewing – I always love to hear your thoughts! xoxo**


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